"Pay attention!" Was what Alastair Redmond had heard before a felt a sharp pain on the side of his leg. He fell to one knee, clutching where he was hit with the wooden sword. He looked up at the one who hit him.
"How do you ever expect to get better at this, and save your own life when you can't even block a blow from a wooden sword?" The woman standing over him was a knight. The knight assigned to be his guard. Her name was Elise Van Blanc. The only female knight in the entire royal army. The woman referred to as the dame.
Alastair laid down, panting softly. "Damn it all…" He knew Elise was standing over him, waiting for him to get back up. "Can't you just let me rest? For today?" Escaped his lips in a breathless whisper.
She sighed exasperatedly. "No." Her tone was quite firm. "How can the future king not understand his own sword art, hm? Your father, the king himself, hired me to look after you. To make sure your royal blood awakens. But you haven't even been able to get your own sword to move the way you want it to." She looked down at him with a glare. She brandished the wooden broadsword.
"I'll get it eventually-"
"Not soon enough. Now get up, Alastair."
His eye twitched. "Might I remind you, Dame, that I am the prince of this kingdom? You cannot refer to the firstborn son by his first name, and especially not with such disrespect." Alastair forced himself to his feet, though his knees were shaking. He still got up, looking at her defiantly.
"I'll refer to your title with respect when you earn my respect, Alastair." Her tone was mocking. He knew she was doing it intentionally. She was trying to provoke him, to make him find the willpower to continue attacking her. He knew this. He should keep a cool head.
But, he obviously brandished his sword.
-
"Does it hurt?" Elise asked, her voice softer now. She was cleaning the cuts on his forehead and arm with a wet rag. Her touch was gentler, more concerned, especially compared to the fierce warrior and ruthless teacher she is during training.
Alastair was sitting there on his bed, letting her take care of him. "It's not so bad anymore…" He said, though he couldn't hide the wince that escaped when her hand went over a bruise on his chest.
"Sorry…" She whispered.
"… You're really different when we're in private." He smiled softly, looking at her. His eyes fell to hers lips for a moment, then his smile faltered, and he forced himself to look away. She is of common blood. Father would never agree to it, Alastair reminded himself in his head.
"I have to be harsh on you during training. You know that."
"You sure you're not just a sadist?"
She touched the bruise on his chest again, intentionally this time, making him wince. "Okay, sorry, shouldn't have said that…" He said softly as she shot him a glare.
She sighed, and set the rag aside. "You know I'm worried about you." Elise looked into his eyes. He hated when she did that. He knew that he wouldn't be able to refuse her or win any argument whenever she did that. "Your father… Says he might just give the rule over to your younger brother if your blood doesn't awaken by the time you're twenty…" She put her hand on his arm.
Alastair looked into Elise's eyes, thinking quietly for a bit. Then, he sighed, and got up, starting to get dressed. "Let him. It isn't like I want to rule either way."
"It'll be a bad look." She said, but bit her lip. Elise understood that he never wanted to rule, never wanted to be born as a royal. But he still had his duties. And so did he.
He only got dressed quietly. After a while, he sighed. "I have to get to dinner, otherwise father will get angry again." Alastair turned to look at her, then froze slightly as she noticed the way she was looking at him. "What?"
Elise's face felt warm, and she looked away. "I was just… Thinking. About… How different you look compared to when we started training." She bit her tongue. Why did I have to say that?
He looked down at himself. It was true. When they started training, he was more skinny than anything. After months of training, he looked more lean. More defined. Then, he realized that she was looking at him because she found him attractive. His face heated up, and he cleared his throat. "I have to get to dinner." He said again.
"Y- Yes, I'm not stopping you." She said as she left the room, going to her own bedchambers.
He sighed, and ran a hand through his messy blonde hair. Then, he left the room as well, heading to the dining room. Both him and Elise were unaware, though, that a maid had seen the two of them exiting his bedroom together.
-
"Alastair."
Alastair snapped out of his own thoughts, and realized he was picking at his food. He took a bite, then looked at the person who called him. His father. The king. "Yes, father?"
King Redmond was an old man now, a greying beard growing on his wrinkled face. He looked at his firstborn son with a critical eye, then took a sip of his wine. "I was asking you how training is going. With the Dame," He said in his usual commanding voice.
Alastair sat quietly for a moment. "It's… Going well." He took another bite. "My swordplay is improving. And I'm not getting tired as quickly as I used to."
"And your eyes?"
"… I'm sure they'll awaken eventually."
The old man sighed in frustration. "You understand you're only making it more difficult for yourself, boy?" The king looked at his son. "You're turning twenty in a month, and you haven't even acquired the trait that differentiates our family from the beggars on our streets."
"You shouldn't speak of our people that way-"
"I am speaking, boy. Do not interrupt. And swallow your food before speaking."
Alastair swallowed, looking down, not daring to meet his eyes. "Yes, father."
Alastair's younger brother, Enkel was watching from beside him. He was only younger by two years, and Alastair believed he was the only one in his entire family who he could tolerate.
His stepmother sat across from him, looking at him coldly. "I see you're spending a lot of time with that common woman." She said, her voice shrill, sounding like a metal fork being used to write cursive on a chalkboard used in the schoolhouses the peasant children went to.
"Do you… Mean Elise, mother?" He hated calling her that. But, both her, and his father forced him to refer to her as his mother. No way around that. "We train together, that's all. And… She's respected in this kingdom. She defended the city against a group of bandits when the royal army wasn't available, remember?"
"Really? You only train together?" She looked at him, a strangely knowing look in her cunning eyes. Like she knew something she wasn't supposed to find out, and would hold it against him. "Then, tell me, why I have been overhearing the maids speaking of how she always comes to your bedroom after your training?" She asked, taking a sip of her wine glass.
Alastair froze, and realized that both his father and brother were looking at him, though his younger brother's expression was more concerned than anything. "I… Uh…"
"… Son." The king's voice cut through the room, even silencing the voice of his stepmother. "Is this true? Have you been… Messing around with the Dame?" He looked at Alastair. His face was still, so Alastair believed he was furious.
"Father, wait, you and mother misunderstand-" He started, but stopped talking when the king raised his hand.
"I'm not angry." The king said. That made Alastair's stepmother look slightly disappointed, though she didn't say anything. "In fact… This saves me quite a lot of trouble." He sighed. Then, he looked at Alastair. "You're my firstborn son. Of my first, late wife. The supposed heir to the throne. And yet…"
Alastair sat silently, waiting anxiously for what he was about to say.
"… You ended up being my biggest disappointment." The king said. His voice was cold. As if he held no emotion for his own son. "You're pathetically weak. Twenty years old, and still an amateur at swordplay. Your Redmond eyes haven't awakened, and yet… I hear the servants speak of how you spend nights in the gardens watering flowers instead of training. Your younger brother is a far better fit, since you're not worthy of being a king."
Alastair sat there silently in his seat. His eyes stung. He could feel tears welling up, but he wouldn't dare let them fall. Not now, not in front of them. He swallowed softly.
"So… Leave."
Alastair raised his head. "… What?"
"You aren't fit to be the king of Thravos. So… Take the Dame with you. You want to spend time with commoners, and water flowers instead of rule, fine." He took a sip of his wine and a bite of his food as if he was discussing the weather. Not like he was exiling his own son. "We'll fake your death in the kingdom. You can leave, go to the countryside, south with this woman."
"F- Father, I-"
"Go. You're no longer my son. You're free to do as you wish."
-
It was late at night. Elise heard a knock on her bedroom door. She got up, grumbling to herself, and opened the door to see the firstborn prince, looking down at her. She suddenly felt self-conscious, wanting to fix up her brown hair that ended up disheveled after sleeping. She barely processed that he pulled her in for a kiss.
Alastair pulled back after a moment, and looked down at her. "Elise…" He whispered, his face red. His hands went to her shoulders.
She looked up at him, her face red, bewildered. "M- My lord, what are you doing? I am of common blood, and you're-" Her words were cut short by his own.
"Elise, I… I have been exiled." He looked down at her. She only looked more bewildered.
-
The two of them had left the walls of the city, now standing on a hill, looking over the sleeping kingdom. The tall castle, which used to resemble a cage for him, now just looked as it was supposed to look. Old and large, no more chains binding him to it.
He didn't realize he was quiet until he spoke. "Hey…" She put her hand on his arm. He had explained the entire situation to her. She had… Felt terrible about how things had happened for him, yet… He only seemed to look as if a mountainous weight had been lifted off his chest.
"No more looking back, right?" He asked her, a smile on his face.
Five Years Before The Death of Alice the Great.